


The long night

by TheBiPenguin



Series: AHS-Coven/Sterek [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Nogitsune, Witch Stiles Stilinski, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8135882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBiPenguin/pseuds/TheBiPenguin
Summary: Heavy angst guys so be warned. (This isn't the end!!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So guys, I've decided this is gonna be a trilogy and I'd like some input on book 3, once you've read this one ;) 
> 
> I want Sterek cubs, I'd like to go down the mpreg route via the voodoo fertility ritual seen in AHS coven but I appreciate some readers dislike mpreg? Not sure what alternative I'd use though.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments xx

Stiles’ woke to the sensation of someone else’s skin against his, warm and comforting. It became far less so at the contact became more insistent, shaking him from his beautiful slumber.

“Wake up. Your alarms going off.”

He groaned loudly, waving a hand in the direction of the offending noise to silence it before curling back into the warmth of the chest lying next to his. He was met with two cold hands shoving him backwards and out of the bed, into the frigid air of the room.

“Urgh!” He yelled, eyes flying open in the morning glare. “Derek!”

Derek gave a deep chuckle, rolling into the newly vacated space in the middle of the mattress and further wrapping himself in the rest of the duvet. “You have to go to work-“

“Lucky for some, eh.”

“-and using my whole name doesn’t scare me. You’re not my mom.”

Tying his dressing gown around his toned waist, he genuinely considered throwing his boyfriend out the other side of the bed in retaliation, but, his heart melted at the sight of Derek’s relaxed smile, eyes closed and blissfully trusting. He couldn’t do it. He leaned down the peck him on the lips before heading for the bathroom.

“Love you, Der.”

Breakfast was in full swing by the time he got downstairs.

Alison was pouring what was probably not her first coffee of the morning as Scott tried to lean round her to the toaster. Erica and Boyd were demolishing a pile of croissants between them while Isaac was trying to do his tie and lift a spoonful of cereal at the same time. It was organized chaos. The only people not out of bed were Lydia and Jackson, who were free from work on account of college not restarting until after the Christmas holiday in another week.

Stiles didn’t even bother sitting down, just accepted the kettle from Alison, poured himself his own coffee with far too much sugar and headed to work.

“See you tonight guys.”

Winter was by far his favourite time of year. Everything was dusted white like someone had run through the town with an impossibly large amount of icing sugar. He sipped his warm coffee gratefully as he stepped out of his, slightly obnoxious, red Ferrari and carefully made his way up the path into the house he now called his office to begin his day.

It was tedious, both tedious and annoying. When Stiles had been told he was destined to be the next Supreme, he’d envisioned battling demons and saving school buses full of children, you know, classic superhero stuff. As he sat in his daily 9am meeting with his advisers, he felt once again that he had been misled. He’d never wished to become Supreme and he was in no way power hungry, but, the idea of being a superhero had thrilled him more than a bit.

He slouched in his chair, shoes kicked off under the table, as they spoke. Mostly he just nodded along, only wading in when he felt a bad decision had been made or he needed more information. Eventually, a familiar name piqued his attention.

The advisers were taking turns to present each point they had to work through, describing the problem and asking Stiles how he wanted it dealt with. It was currently the turn of a dark haired, broad shouldered man named Kevin. He’d never liked him, he was loud and cocky and altogether laddish in a way Stiles had never really had much time for.

“Girl, aged 19. Kira Yukimura. Having problems controlling her powers. She lives a few miles outside Tokyo, Originally, when their local coven leader said she couldn’t handle her, we sent specialist tutors in. But, we’re still having problems.”

“I’ve not heard her name for a while.” Stiles observed, pinning the bigger man with his well-practiced, critical gaze. “When did tutors go in?”

“March.”

“It took them ten months to figure out it wasn’t working?” his eyebrows rose, stretching his forehead into an expression of equal surprise and annoyance “What kind of problems has she had?”

The older man scanned the file in front of him, clearly unfamiliar with its contents. “Minor fire-setting. Accidental telekinesis. Nothing major.”

“More specifically?”

The room had grown tense. Stiles was a fairly permissive leader, because he trusted those around him to do their jobs well. Clearly, this time he’d been mistaken. Kevin visibly squirmed before replying.

“She accidently set fire to a guy who tried to mug her, no serious injuries, mostly clothing. The telekinetics vary, breaking household objects, she’s thrown a couple of people who made her jump….erm…Says here she flipped a car that was about the hit her. Healers were able to fix the driver, though.”

“And you think that’s nothing major?” Stiles voice came out sharp, scathing. “I want this girl here, now. Put her on a plane as soon as you can pack up her things. Arrange for her parents to follow ASAP and make sure they receive any financial and logistical support they need.” Kevin’s large hands moved jerkily as he scrawled down his instructions.

“Not that I should have to say it, but, make sure to send them a potion which with ensure her powers are temporarily knocked out for the duration of the flight. Last thing we need is her blowing up a jumbo jet at 400 feet.”

He shook his head in mild exasperation. “Who’s up next?”

 

“You agreed to what?” Derek’s voice slipped into alpha-mode, snapping his boyfriend’s spine up straight where he stood.

“Easy.” He warned, his hand freezing where it held up the duvet of their bed, about to climb in. “I said we’d have a guest for a few weeks while I help her get powers under control and she’s safe to live independently and come in for tuition each day, that’s all.”

His alpha folded his arms over his muscled chest disapprovingly, glaring at him from his side of the mattress. “You agreed to have a dangerous witch in our home without asking me.”

Stiles was more than a little slighter than Derek and far less imposing, but, he held his ground. He forced himself to be civil “I’m a dangerous witch. I live here. Like I said, it’ll be temporary and I’ll be here to contain things. It’ll be fine.” He broke off their glaring contest and climbed in between the sheets, shivering as the cool cotton touch his skin.

After a long moment, Derek accepted that the argument was over and settled in beside him, wrapping his larger frame around him as they did every night. Nothing had changed.

It would be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the pack were far more accepting of the idea of a house guest. Kira was a similar age to them and came from a country none of them had ever visited. They thought she was going to be very interesting. So much so that Lydia bitched about having to go back to Med School before she was arriving. They’d all been sorry to see her and Jackson leave, it’d been great having them around. They all promised to skype at least once a week.

Two days later, Kira’s escort pulled up at the house, a tall, thin man using well practiced telekinesis to carry her four large, purple cases.

When Stiles opened the door to greet her, he had to pause for a second. She was nothing like he’d expected. Kira was petite, with long, shimmering dark hair and unblemished skin. She was very beautiful, but, what struck him about her was her stance.

He’s expected an angry or distressed teenager, sullen and ill tempered. Instead, what he was faced with was a girl who did not look her nineteen years and stood with her arms and legs pressed in, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her chin was dipped as though she was fighting the urge to hide from his eye contact. Despite this, she smiled politely.

“Hi.” He beamed, stepping out of the way and beckoning her into the warm. “I’m Stiles. You must be Kira?”

The girl nodded mutely, drawing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear so she could be seen properly. “Thank you for having me.”

“No problem.” God, she really was meek. “Let’s show you around and get your things into your room. You’re next to mine so if you need anything just knock.” He walked her around the new Hale-house. He left the lounge until last, the pack were all sitting in front of the TV together. The escort floated Kira’s cases into her room and then promptly left, so Stiles didn’t worry about him as he and Kira took their places on the sofa besides the others.

She perked nervously on the edge of the cushion, unwilling or unable to relax. New country, new home, new housemates, it was sure to be intimidating. Especially with sourwolf frowning across at them from his armchair. He told her not to take any notice, that that was just Derek’s face. He’d teased a small smile out of her with that one, at the expense of his Alpha’s eyebrows knitting even further down towards his nose.

He was gonna get told off for that one later on, but, who cares.

Kira fitted in perfectly. The girls loved her, she drew incredible anime, which she promised to teach Alison in exchange for archery lessons, and she played guitar so her and Erica had instantly become jam-buddies. The guys took a little longer, they didn’t really know what to do with someone so shy. They played the only bro card they knew and invited her to play video games with them. She whooped their butts, it was impressive. Clearly she was no newbie to the gaming world. Things had gotten less awkward after that, she came and went as she pleased, got food from the cupboards, changed the TV channel when there was something she wanted on. She made herself at home and Stiles was more than a little relieved.

Keeping one eye on her 24-7 was no easy task. He was working from home rather than drag her to the office each morning, no one had liked having meetings in the house, but, it had to be done. They had eventually managed to compromise a timetable that allowed them to each get everything they needed and wanted to do done without them being away from each other.

It was nice to have the company while he worked, if he was honest. They spent so much time together that they came to know each other well extremely quickly. They learned how the other took their coffee, he discovered that Kira was an early bird (Stiles was NOT), her parents were both engineers, but, she preferred natural sciences, which is what she wanted to do at college once she had everything under control. They came to be good friends.

The only one who didn’t seem able to relax around her was Derek. He’d huffed at her on the first day when she bumped into him. She’d jumped so badly she’d set fire to the couch. Derek did not like fire, for obvious reasons. Stiles had had the couch fixed in seconds but that wasn’t the point. Derek liked Kira just fine, he just wouldn’t trust her until Stiles had taught her some control.

That was proving harder than he’d expected. She was just so skittish! She had all that power, she ought to feel indestructible, Stiles had when his powers had first developed. But, for some reason, if she was engrossed in a drawing or something else she was doing, as she’d been that morning, she’d jump at the slightest thing, the “Bing” of the microwave on this occasion. She’d blown the door off it, sending scrambled eggs all over the floor.

She was getting better. He didn’t think she really knew why she was doing it. To him it seemed fairly obvious, you get scared, you lash out to protect yourself. It made sense. The problem wasn’t her powers it was her ability to tap into them, or not, when she wanted to. So he prescribed the only thing he thought would work. Much to Derek’s mortification, he instructed her to use magic for EVERYTHING. It needed to be as natural as breathing, which meant practice, practice, practice.

He gave her mittens and insisted she wear them all the time, even indoors, using telekinesis in place of performing tasks by hand. She wasn’t to use the kettle or hobbs, she was to conjure and sustain a flame to heat things. The only time the mittens came of was when she changed her clothes, all of which were now on the top shelf, so she had to levitate to reach them.

It was a horrendous mess, the first week the pack all told Stiles he was being too tough and that she stank of stress and misery. He held his ground, praising every attempt she made, no matter how badly it went. By the end of the week there were almost no mugs left intact and every piece of fabric had either a food stain or a burn mark on it. Even Derek told him it was too strict a regime, but, he knew better. It was exactly how Annalie had taught him. He knew how bad it was and he knew how good she’d be once she got into the habit of constant practice.

It was surprising to see Derek defend her. He’d been an absolute sourwolf ever since she’d arrived. Stiles couldn’t fathom it and Derek wouldn’t tell him. That was strange too. Unfortunately, Stiles had no real time to spend figuring it out. All he could do was pray that he and Derek were okay and deal with it when things quietened down, if whatever it was hadn’t passed by then. He was fucking angry with Derek, though. They’d communicated well from the first, it was an absolute necessity within the pack. He didn’t understand why he was being pushed away now. But, it wasn’t just him. The other pack members knew something was up too, he sulked and spent way too much time by himself. He hadn’t been scenting anyone as much as normal and was spending a lot of time running in the preserve. If it wasn’t for werewolf senses, he might’ve worried Derek was cheating on him, but, there was no way he’d get away with that with the noses in this house. No, something was definitely up.

Unfortunately, work and Kira were taking up all of his time.

 The pack were all under strict instructions not to help her, she had to learn. This essentially meant that she had a whole house full of cheerleaders willing her to succeed with every word exchanged between them. It heartened her, Stiles could see that, could see the proud little smile in the corner of her mouth at every small step she made. He was incredibly proud of her too, she was learning fast.

By the end of the third week, she had it. She damn well had it. There hadn’t been even a minor accident in days, she could catch and return without touching, change direction and spin in mid-air and had complete control of her pyrokinesis, she hadn’t burned a thing in days. Stiles came downstairs to find her sat at the kitchen table, chatting with the rest of the pack. Her phone hovered in front of her as a spoon fed her cereal from the bowl. A steaming cup of tea sat beside it, which he assumed she’d boiled herself. He watched smugly as she washed up and replaced the breakfast things in the cupboards, all hands free, without so much as a wobble.

“Okay.” He smiled. “Gloves can come off. You’re ready to fly solo. Just make sure you don’t let yourself get rusty.”

She looked elated. The whole pack cheered. Erica fist pumped the air. Even Derek gave her a hearty clap in congratulations. Things got a hell of a lot easier from there. Stiles felt more of a Supreme in that moment than he had since he’d brought Derek back from the edge of death. He’d helped. He’d used his power and is knowledge and his skills and he’d helped a fellow witch. That’s what being Supreme was about.

He still had to replace those mugs.


	3. Chapter 3

Kira had immediately thrown off the shackles of learning the moment he’d given the all clear. She was safe to be around people again! She could go shopping! (The boys had been appalled at how much she, Alison and Erica spent that day), she could go to the movies, play sports properly against other people without hurting them. She loved it.

And she took most of the pack with her, along with a massive chunk of Stiles’ workload. Leaving him time to get back to doing what he enjoyed.

Derek.

Or at least, that was the plan. In the time Stiles would’ve spent tutoring Kira, she’d gone to a college open day with her parents, who were equally thrilled about her progress. He wondered whether she’d move back in with them now, he doubted it, years of being too lethal to be near them had forced them to grow apart. He actually hoped that she’d stay with the pack, at least until she went to college.

Either way, those were worries for later. Right now, his Alpha had his undivided attention. He waited, full of excited energy, for Derek to get back from his run (The second of the day!). It was gone three pm when his sweaty form came sauntering, altogether far too casually, through the front door. Stiles knelt up on the sofa to see him, calling through the doorway into the hall.

“Hey, Der.” He jumped over the back and bounded up to him. “I really fancy dinner and a movie tonight, it’s been ages.”

“Okay.” Derek didn’t break his stride, didn’t even look at him, just kept walking straight past him towards the bathroom to shower. He walked as if he was in prison, eyes down, shoulders back, don’t look weak and don’t make eye contact. It made Stiles blood boil.

“Hey!” He snapped his fingers and the bathroom door slammed shut, hard enough to shake the frame and echo around the house. Derek halted mid-stride and spun to scowl at him.

“Okay, pal. I dunno what’s going on, but, I wanna know and I wanna know now!”

Derek drew himself up tall, he was fucking scary, every inch an Alpha.

“Don’t.” He growled. “Just because you don’t have to spend all your time with Kira now doesn’t mean you can’t choose to.” Derek was shaking, but it wasn’t anger. No, Stiles was the only one that was angry. Derek looked devastated.

“You can choose her, Stiles. If you want to.”

Stiles was too dumbfounded to do anything other than stand there, face totally blank, mouth hanging open. Him and Kira? Derek turned and reached for the doorknob to the bathroom. He reached it just as one of Lydia’s forgotten medical books hit him hard across the back of the head. He spun around, eyes flashing red. The fire in his gaze died the minute he saw Stiles. His boyfriend’s face was streaked with tears, his amber eyes wide, lips trembling.

“How dare you.” His voice came out in harsh rags. Derek didn’t know how to respond. Stiles’ heart sounded like it was about to give out, it was going ballistic. “How dare you think that and not tell me!” Stiles made another angry gesture, waving his hand sharply, but, nothing else was thrown at him.

“I-I thought-“

“I don’t give a damn. Why didn’t you tell me?!” Stiles was hysterical now. Derek had no idea what to do, he wanted to grab hold of him, to hug him tight and hold him steady, to make him safe again.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured.

Stiles wiped his hands over his face to clear his tears. “Do you want us to end?” They’d been dating for over eighteen months, they’d faced a Demon Alpha together, but, Derek didn’t think he’d ever heard Stiles sound as scared as he did right now. He wasn’t the only one.

“Of course not.”

Stiles didn’t speak, but his heartrate did slow a little. He walked stiffly forwards and into Derek’s chest, nuzzling down against his neck and wrapping his long arms round his waist. His scent was miserable and it made Derek feel awful, but, it was still Stiles, his Stiles and that made it okay. He closed his arms around him and squeezed his shaking body tight.

“I love you, Der. I could never want anyone else.”

“I love you, too.”

“Promise me you won’t keep shit like that to yourself again. We’re on the same side, buddy.”

Derek was in shock. It was okay, they were going to be okay. Relief flooded his system, making speech impossible. All he could do was breathe the words into Stiles’ ear.

“…I promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

Things returned, practically, to normal after that. He and Derek had taken some time, a lot of time actually, to figure things out. They’d damaged the trust between them and it needed to be healed. That translated as spending hours at a time curled up together, showering together, eating together and generally being all over each other. The pack thought it was nauseating, but, they were just grateful to have their old Alpha back.

Stiles’ work moved back out the house now Kira could be left alone and could safely be around other people, which was a massive stress reliever for everyone. He almost enjoyed it by comparison, almost. He was certainly a lot perkier.

So it was with a genuine spring in his step that he left the office, such as it was, two Fridays after his and Derek’s misunderstanding. He picked up pizza on the way home, meat lovers (Of course!) and a crap load of doughnuts. Werewolf metabolisms meant never getting fat and Stiles was pretty lucky on that front too.

He swung his car up next to Derek’s and deliberately dawdled up the steps to the house, giving the smell of freshly baked pizza time to float into the house ahead of him. When he got inside, though, the atmosphere was one of complete seriousness. Derek, Isaac, Scott, Alison and Kira were all sat around the kitchen table, talking in anxious voices, their faces scrunched up with worry.

Carefully, he deposited the food on the counter, out of the way. “What’s up?”

Derek’s face belied none of the genuine anxiety Stiles could tell that he was feeling. “We’ve got a demon in the preserve. We can smell it on the wind.”

He wasn’t really sure why Derek looked so concerned. “Alright. I’ll sort it. No biggie.”

The pack’s eyes went wide, all heads snapping up at him. “What?!”

“I’m the fucking Supreme.” He laughed at their blank little faces. “Demons are my territory. I got it.”

“This is no ordinary demon, Stiles.”

The sombre, powerful voice of Dr Deaton appeared behind him, whirling him around in the doorway.

“It’s a Nogitsune.” The Dr’s face was pinched with worry. “It gets inside your head and turns your entire mind inside out. It feeds on chaos, on strife. And it’s exquisitely well adapted to obtaining it.”

“You’re not going.” Derek was in full on Alpha mode. No arguing.

“Alright.” He rolled his eyes and shrugged heavily. “You got another plan?”

Their silence was answer enough.

 

The next two days were spent in almost complete lockdown. Pack mates were only to leave the house in pairs and if absolutely necessary, by Derek’s order, while they planned their move against the Nogitsune.

That wasn’t going well. By all accounts the damn thing was indestructible. The nature of reality was that everything trended towards chaos, upon which the Nogitsune fed. It couldn’t be killed. However, it had been contained for at least a hundred years, there were only a handful known to exist and it became pretty obvious when one got loose. How to trap one was a less well documented. Stiles, Deaton and Derek spent hours poring over every piece of supernatural literature they could lay their hands on.

Nothing helped.

The best they could find was something Deaton dragged up out of an old textbook, the name of which Stiles couldn’t even translate. The best they could decipher was something along the lines of “Chaos thrives in the darkness, until a person of balance brings it into the light.”

Clear as mud. No wonder the damn thing was so strong.

That was secretly nagging at Stiles. He’d dug through a number of Wiccan texts. They were all equally vague about how a Nogitsune came into being and how it functioned, but, there was one thing every single piece had in common.

They all listed the story of Jonathan Wilkins, reigning Supreme from 1820 until 1832. With twelve years’ experience behind him, Jonathan had been faced with a Nogitsune in Manchester, UK. It had wreaked havoc, bringing violence, disease and crime to the city’s inhabitants in spades. At the age of just thirty, he confronted the demon in the middle of Trafalgar square, for all to see the creature slain and put their fears to rest.

At least, that was the plan. Jonathan Wilkins did bind the Nogitsune once again, but, he suffered such a catastrophic mental break that his powers came loose from his mind. They consumed his body, burning through his soft tissues like lava through butter. It was a pretty graphic description, one which made Stiles quake more than a little bit.

He wasn’t the only one, either. The rest of the pack kept throwing him and Derek concerned looks. There was no way this story wasn’t included in the texts they were working through as well. Jonathan Wilkins had been older and more experienced than Stiles and he’d still only fought the Nogitsune to a draw.

What chance did he have?

The question hung heavy between him and Derek, but, they never voiced it. They spoke endlessly, instead, about illuminating crystals and serenity meditations. None of which Stiles thought would really help.

It was during one such conversation between them Isaac and Kira, all gathered around the kitchen table one evening after work, that it struck. A howl more terrible than Stiles had ever heard tore through the preserve, right through the walls of the house and into his heart.

Scott!

He and Alison were expected home from work any minute, the howl had been barely quarter of a mile away. The pack were out the door in seconds, wolves shifting and witches sprinting to keep up, following Derek and Isaac’s keen senses.

It felt like they’d run a marathon before Scott’s car came into view, upturned and wheels spinning helplessly in the air. Next to it stood Alison, transfixed, the defenceless human paralysed in the embrace of an ethereal man.

It was Isaac.

Or rather, a wraith wearing Isaacs face, smooth and handsome and unblemished. It wore a wicked smile as Alison drowsily pulled the not-Isaac’s arms around her waist, drawing them tighter together. Scott was furiously swiping his claws at the bellowing shadows around the couples’ feet, unable to get past it. Unable to reach her.

Not-Isaac laughed. “You’re not half the wolf I am. You can’t protect her. She’s mine!”

Derek seized Scott by the shoulder and hauled him backwards, just as thin tentacles of smoke threatened to slide into his nostrils. Not-Isaac hissed in annoyance, but, looked undeterred.

Derek had spun Scott around as he pulled him back out of danger, bringing him face to face with real Isaac, whose face was a mask of pure horror. That face went from pale to crimson as Scott’s claws sliced through it, throwing him howling to the ground. Derek roared at Scott to stop, but he didn’t hear. The pair of wolves rolled across the leaves, their blood turning the ground into a sea of angry red.

Stiles threw them apart telekinetically, trying not to injure them further. This was exactly what it wanted.

There was a flash of orange light as Kira hurled a wicked looking streak of fire at not-Isaac. It blocked her attack with a gleeful flourish and ricocheted it straight into Derek’s torso. The Alpha didn’t have time to dodge more than a few inches, just enough to keep the impact from being fatal. He was spun backwards through the air to collide with a heavy tree trunk, the bark cracking loudly under his fracturing ribs.

“Hey!” Stiles felt his power swell, instinct ordering him to act. He turned from his wounded mate towards the offending creature just in time to see not-Isaac draw its’ claws across Alison’s neck, laying her throat open and sending her lifeblood spurting from her body in all directions. The two wrestling wolves went still, grief and disbelief freezing them in place. Stiles felt it too, he could hear Derek’s ragged breathing behind him, his body fighting off the shock.

Not-Isaac laughed, a mocking, boyish noise. “And now your squabbling’s got her killed. Wow, you two really are pathetic.” It stepped over Alison’s fallen body towards the cowering boys. “Weak. Selfish. Little cubs.”

A streak of black smoke lunged at them, but it never struck. Kira threw her body weight against them, shouldering them out of the way. Her head snapped back as she was hit squarely in the face, tumbling onto her back, clawing at her eyes.

Her screams cut through the cool forest air like a knife, breaking Stiles out of his stupor.

“Enough.” It was an order, one that got the Nogitsunes’ attention. The boyish smirk began to shift, the angles becoming sharper, the jaw squarer.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the mommy murderer.” Stiles’ breath froze in his chest as he registered the accusing face of the man he loved, cold and unfamiliar, glaring back at him.

He closed his eyes against the lie. He could do this. He felt nauseous, his breath coming in short bursts, tearing through his chest.

“Just another stupid, selfish little boy.”

“Liar!” Derek’s roar drowned out not-Derek’s laughter, clearing Stiles’ head. He became aware again of sounds of the real Derek’s breathing behind him, could see his face in his mind, drawing forth every sensation associated with that face from his memory. He felt a swathe of calmness come over him, his breathing slowing and his sweaty palms drying.

He could do this.

He held his arms up blindly, opening his mind’s eye to see a ring of warm light spreading out from him and around the smoke which bellowed around the Nogitsune’s imposing figure, trapping it in, forcing it to shrink.

“Open your eyes, coward!” It shrieked. “Every day you’ve failed me, failed to your friends! Have the courage to watch me die! This is your fault, murderer!”

It’s not him, it’s not true. He chanted to himself, bringing his palms together, smothering the smoke to nothing.

“They’re all going to die and leave you, you stupid little brat! Every last one of them!” The voice became muffled, choking on its’ own fumes, and then was silent. The only sound was the rush of air in his chest and the pulsing of his blood in his temples.

He took one last deep breath and opened his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Kira put the sugar on the kitchen counter, next to her mug and turned to reach for the kettle. She froze as her arm collided with a carton of eggs, sending them tumbling onto the floor.

“Dammit.” She clenched her fists. “Can people stop fucking moving things?! Some of us are blind!!”

“Here.” Isaac was on his feet instantly, the scent of guilt flooding from his pores. The rest of the pack looked on pityingly as he wiped the egg from Kira’s smart black dress and threw the ruined carton into the bin.

“Open your mind’s eye.” Stiles reminded her gently, “Your clairvoyance will develop to compensate, just focus.”

Lydia looked up from her coffee to give him a disapproving stare, He thought she might criticize his bluntness, but, she was distracted as Scott entered the room, dressed in the same smart black and white suit all the men were wearing, the girls were dressed in equally solemn mourning wear.

Scott and Isaac’s eyes met, but neither made any move to acknowledge the other. The tension between them could’ve crushed bones and was certainly breaking hearts. Even Derek didn’t speak. What was there to say?

Alison’s funeral was an unusual affair, overly formal considering the young age of its’ organizers. She had no living relatives and the pack had refused to allow social services to take over the arrangements. She would not be buried by the state as just another citizen they’d never know. She was Alison Argent, honoured member of the Hale pack and today her pack would do her justice.

So they sat stoically through Scott’s blubbering speech, begging her forgiveness and swearing that they’d be together again. They sang to her favourite song, because she wouldn’t have liked a hymn. When it was all over, they watched as Derek, Jackson, Boyd and Isaac lowered her into the ground, Scott shaking in Stiles’ arms too hard to have been a bearer, despite how much he’d insisted he wanted to be.

After a long moment, they walked away.

 

It was a long afternoon and evening before Derek and Stiles were alone in their bedroom, stripping the stale clothes from their tired muscles, their bodies totally drained by grief.

Stiles was agitated. He knew Derek could smell it, so he jumped in first. “This is the wrong time to ask this.”

Derek threw the last of his clothes carelessly into the laundry basket and dragged his leaden feet around the bed to wrap his arms around Stiles’ slim frame.

“It was a lie. Every word of it.”

Stiles snuffled against his warm skin, nuzzling into the comforting hold. “Not that…I thought…I thought it was gonna turn into my mum or dad. That it’d use my love for them to try and undo me. But, it didn’t. It went for you.”

Derek didn’t respond, Stiles’ somehow doubted he understood, or worse, felt guilty about being used against him. Isaac clearly did. Stiles pulled back just far enough to look up into his mates’ eyes, his own were starting to overflow, again.

“I love you more than anyone else in this world, Derek Hale. I swear, I will be here by your side for as long as you want me here.”

Derek’s confused frown began to smooth as understanding dawned. “Are you-“

“Marry me.” He blurted.

There was a tense moment of exhausted disbelief before Derek’s mouth was on his, not a passionate, lusting kiss, but, a sober promise-kiss. A hand reaching out to take his in their shared darkness.

“Of course I will.”


End file.
